COC #19: Apocalypse
The world is ending and Simon and Baz are stuck with each other in their last few hours.
~ I love the way this one turned out! Enjoy! ~
"Have you seen the news?" I ask Baz hurriedly, as if every word matters now more than ever. As if anything matters anymore. He rolls his eyes casually at me, as if nothing matters to him anymore. (To be fair, he'd have a good reason.) Maybe he's just going to ignore what's happening. (I might believe that if he wasn't lying on his bed now, drinking his bloody sorrows away. Can vampires even get drunk?)
"I'm not a Normal, Snow. I don't watch the news. But I do know what's happening, yes." He takes another drink of his whiskey. It's already unbearably hot in the room, and we're still hours out from when it starts to kill.
"And you don't care?" I sit up on my bed, facing him. He sits up as well, matching my glare.
"No, Snow. The world is set to end in flames in a matter of hours- why care when there's nothing I can do about it?" Sighing, I move to leave the room and go... anywhere, really. Though I s'pose I can't do anything I want to. Penny and I have already said our goodbyes before she left for her home, and I don't fancy spending my last hours with Agatha. (Maybe that makes me a right barmy arsehole, but why care when it doesn't matter?)
When I put my hands on the doorknob, it burns to the touch- it burns burns. I yelp and jump back, cradling my hand. "Jesus Christ that's hot!" I whirl around to see Baz standing and rolling his eyes as he reaches for the doorknob. "Baz, wait-" I reach out to stop him, but he sneers at me and puts his hand on the handle.
As he tries the door and turns the handle, it still doesn't open even as he pushes and pulls with all his strength. "Crowley, I suppose we're stuck, Snow. Mechanism is melted and welded." He turns away from the door and my whole body is itching to rush to him and check his hand to see if it got burned.
"Baz, is your... is your hand okay?" He sighs for the umpteenth time this minute as he flops (gracefully, as always) back on his bed and holds his hand out for me to see. Not a mark or a welt anywhere on it. "How-"
"Indirect contact with fire - like heat - doesn't hurt me."
I ignore his (almost- maybe I can get him to admit to it later) admission to being a vampire (it hardly matters now, anyway) and stare at him. "But you're flammable?"
"Very much so... with direct flame," He catches himself and continues, "I mean, aren't we all?" We lapse back into silence for a few moments, but I can't help it when I start talking again.
"Why aren't you upset that the world is ending?" I inquire.
"What is with the questions, Snow? I'm happy it's finally going to be over with. The only upsetting thing about it is having to spend this joyous occasion in this infernal room with my daft roommate." He huffs while unbuttoning his shirt halfway and kicking off his shoes and socks. I try my hardest to ignore the twinge I felt in my heart as he insulted me and follow suit, peeling off my shirt and taking my shoes off, too. Merlin, it's hot in here.
"Since we're going to die soon, why don't we just make the best of it?" I ask him. I'm so tired of fighting- none of it matters now, anyway. So why bother?
"How do you mean?" He crinkles his eyebrows in a simply mesmerizing way; I'm just realizing now that the way his face curves when he does all of his different faces is truly elegant.
"I mean... well I mean that maybe we should just call a truce. For the rest of our lives." I smile at him as he chuckles at my joke. He stares at me with his wet pavement eyes and he nods slowly. "So truce?" I ask him.
"I suppose it can't hurt... truce." I smile brightly at him. I feel like I need to do something definitive to show that I am serious about this truce. So I stand up and sit on the floor between our beds, hoping he understands. Luckily, he's a well smart bloke, so he picks up on my meaning and sits next to where I'm sat, careful not to get too close. Like he's scared I'm not serious. (I am.) Or that I'll burn him. (Which I very bloody well might, in this heat.) I scoot a bit closer, just to make a point.
"So. We should play a game or something." He looks over at me like I'm crackers, or I've grown two heads.
"The world is ending, and you want to play a game?" His infernal eyebrow is raised, and it feels like it got hotter in the room all the sudden. (S'pose it probably did, actually.)
"Well, erm. Yeah, I s'pose I do. So. To, um- in celebration of our lovely world ending, and the fact that nothing matters anymore," He nods like I'm right (which is a first) and looks me in the eye to tell me that he's listening. "How about we tell each other stuff."
"Stuff? What stuff, Snow?"
"I dunno. Secrets, p'raps. Stuff we've never told anyone." His breath catches in his throat, but he nods anyway.
"I suppose... give me an example."
I think for a moment. I decide fuck it, the world is ending, anyway. Doesn't matter, anymore. "I don't think I ever really loved Agatha," He raises his eyebrows back like I'm going right loony. (Maybe I am. I dunno.) "I mean romantically, that is." He puts his face in his hands and runs one through his hair.
"Christ, Snow, I didn't- we're not-" He sighs, gaining back his composure and air of self-righteousness. "Why not?" (Out of all the things I was expecting, I didn't think I'd get a follow-up question.) I just shrug, but that makes him roll his eyes. "A shrug is not an answer, Snow."
I start to shrug again, but he quells me with a warning glare. "I s'pose she was more like a sister to me than anything... I dunno. I guess we just weren't as close as I bloody well thought a couple should be," I pause a moment and look over at Baz, his face contemplative. "And besides, I think she fancied you, anyway." He scoffs and looks back up at me.
"You're not wrong, Snow," I glare at him. (Is he joking? Is this how he jokes with friends or is this his usual sarcasm saved specially for me? Or is this just how he acts around... whatever I am to him, now. His ex-enemy.) "But she's not my type." He looks away now, out the window where the moon has started to get a red glow. (It's much easier to be friends - or whatever we are now - with Baz than I thought it'd be. I should've tried sooner. Well. Doesn't matter now, anyhow.)
"What is your type, Baz?" If I'm not going crackers, I think I see his lips quirk up in a little smile. I'm right happy that I made them do that.
"Well, I suppose it's my turn now, then," (In the game, I guess.) "Right, well. I'm gay," I take in a gasp of air and stare at him. (I'm not homophobic, I swear. I just... thought he was straight, I s'pose.) He seems nervous when he looks at me, so he keeps on. "So I suppose my type is guys. But I don't know if that counts since it's not really a secret- I mean, I've told people, 'course, but they don't really pay attention, so-"
"How come you never told me?" I looks at me, incredulous, but I think it's a valid question. I was his bloody roommate for eight years, so I'd think I would've had a well fucking right to know about it. (I don't know why I care so much. It wouldn't have changed anything, anyway.)
"Well, Snow. We've not exactly got on over the years, in case you recall. We only talked when we were punching or accusing each other, yeah? So I suppose my queerness didn't exactly come up naturally. Besides," He waves his hand in nonchalance, as if this isn't a large revelation. (It's not, really. But it feels like it. To me, anyway.) "It's your turn, Sn-"
"I think Ian Somerholder is hot!" He raises a perfectly arched eyebrow at me and looks as if though I've just told him that I'm pregnant. I don't know why I said it, really. I guess it's just not something I ever told anyone before and well... it's right, gay, isn't it? At least a bit? I thought maybe we could bond over something...
"Well that's... nice, Chosen?"
"Y'know, the vampire? From Vampire Diaries? With the cheekbones..." His jaw may as well be on the floor by now. Why the fuck am I still talking? I s'pose I ramble when I'm nervous, even if I do tend to stumble over my words while doing so like a right bloody chav.
"Yes, I'm aware," He says slowly, as if he's afraid to address the subject.
"And that one vampire from the one movie. Y'know, I just think all vampires in general are pretty ho-" Shit. I stop myself before I can continue. (I guess it doesn't matter that I'm saying this. After all, we'll be dead soon, anyway.)
"Snow. Perhaps it's my turn- not all vampires are, as you say, attractive. Um, surprise, I suppose? You were right all those years, you know. I am a vampire." I turn to face him and see that he's already facing me. Looking at me with those fucking grey eyes and his lovely hair falling in sweaty waves framing his face. I could write sonnets about his hair and the curves of his face. (If I could right, that is.) (That's right gay, too, innit?)
"I stand by my previous statement." Baz looks like he's about to spontaneously combust.
"Simon, I-" My heart flips for reasons I don't dare think about right now. Not when he's calling me Simon.
"Hush now, it's my turn to tell you a secret."
"No it's not-"
"Can it be?" He's quiet for a moment, just studying my face before he nods silently.
"So my secret is kind of a big one, you've been forewarned," (I'm rambling, damn it all to hell.) I don't know what I'm doing, if I'm being honest, full stop. I'm just saying the things as they come to mind. (It's like they've been waiting there for a long time- waiting to come out, eventually.) I have to look away from his eyes for a moment. His stare is just so intense. "I suppose I've felt it for... well for years now, I s'pose. I dunno. But I think... well, Baz. I don't think all vampires are attractive," Fuck fuck fuck mouth don't say it. Don't say what you're thinking. I look back up into his eyes, which are still trained steadily onto mine. (He's sucking on his teeth, I notice. Why am I looking at his lips??) (Maybe because I'm right gay. At least a bit.) "Just one." He lets out a shuddering breath. (I want to touch him- lord do I want to touch him. It's so hot in here and I need his cold.)
"Ian Somerholder?" He chuckles nervously so I laugh back. (Softly- I don't want to startle him.) I shake my head slowly and scoot toward him, just a bit.
"It's hot in here," I whisper. I delicately reach out and take one of his (cold, cold) hands in mine. (Everything around is burning, but he's cold cold cold.) "Cool me down, Baz." I start to lean forward, but he tilts back a bit. I freeze. Is this not what he wants? (Then again, I did just figure out that it's what I want- but why should it matter when we'll die soon, anyway?) But he doesn't let go of me or shove me away, so I don't let go, either. (I don't want to bloody let go.)
He seems to think a moment, and just when I think that Merlin I'll either hop away or jump his bones... he kisses me. And Merlin, Methulusah and Morgana, it's nicer than anything I've ever felt before. (I realize I'm a right pouf. I also realize I don't care much, anymore.) And as we're snogging and shedding layers in this hot, hot room, I can't help but think that I was wrong before. Even though the world is ending... I don't think nothing matters. This - this thing I have with Baz - it matters. This kiss makes me feel like everything matters. Even though we're all bound to die one day, which made me think that maybe nothing mattered in the long run... how could I think that? How could I bloody think that when I've got Baz. (Maybe I am crackers.) And Baz is everything. And I've never been good at maths or logic, but I think that means that everything matters; now more than ever.
We're pressed flush against each other on the floor, Baz on top, when he pulls away a little and whispers against my lips, "What's your secret, Simon?" I pull him in for another kiss (as though the world were ending) softer and sweeter than the last.
I tuck a piece of hair behind his ear and stare back into his deep pools of silver. "You," I whisper. "Always you."